


bury me inside the doll house

by brandywine421



Series: Unfinished AUs of Flail (aka fail) [19]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Gen, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 08:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10330397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brandywine421/pseuds/brandywine421
Summary: Sam and the Wakandian doctors helped him calculate the minimum daily calories and nutrition it would take to keep him alive and functional. He would lose enough body weight to not look like a supersized linebacker and could grow out his beard and hide his face. Wanda suggested gingerish brown for his hair color to be 'less fake'.He was glad she'd agreed to go with Barton after the charges were dropped but he'd made a deal that he would keep in touch with her. He couldn't keep in touch with anyone else.There was a price for living off the grid but he was willing to pay it if it would keep his conscious friends safe.He trusted T'Challa and Sam to look after Bucky.It would be interesting to 'return from the dead' again as a criminal instead of a historical hero if he got another shot at trying to have a life.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Another Not!Fic with too many things I ♥ to just discard it. This one was fun.

  
_Bury me_  
_Inside the doll house in your bedroom_  
_And carve your name into my arm_  
_And quietly_  
_You'll fall asleep_  
_And abandon me_  
_But I take it; I'm ready_

 

 

"You okay?"

"No. I don't think I've been okay in a long time."

"At least you're admitting it now. What do you want to do?"

"You're not going to like it, but it's the best plan. For everyone. I think I can fix most of what I ripped apart, if you're willing to back my play."

"You had me at the sports' metaphor."

** ** **

"I don't planning on calling you in unless it's an emergency."

Steve nodded without meeting Nick's eyes. "I don't plan on being on any grid for a while. As long as possible. I appreciate you helping set me up in the city." Hell's Kitchen wasn't Brooklyn but he appreciated the option of hiding in America, and even more, New York.

He'd be able to blend more easily into a city he was familiar with.

It wasn't perfect considering Tony Stark was still out for his blood but he didn't plan on ever seeing him again willingly. He'd accepted his scolding from Nick for sending the emergency phone and had it routed to Sam for mediation even if he wasn't sure how that would turn out. He trusted Sam with his life and his conscience.

"Good luck. I'll be in touch."

"Not too soon, I hope," Steve replied with a grin that the older man actually returned.

"You're considered the Big Guns for me, Cap, and I don't pull those out unless absolutely necessary. Get some goddamn sleep."

Steve saluted and the spy disappeared into the shadows.

He was pretty sure he'd like living in the shadows a lot more than in the tabloids.

He followed the stairs down to a small apartment with a slightly sagging ceiling in the bathroom. It should be claustrophobic but he would make it cozy before he worried about making friends with the rats. The mirror was splintered and most of the cabinet doors were missing but he filled the shelves with canned food and coffee. He wasn't planning on leaving this space for a few weeks until he'd settled into his disguise.

Sam and the Wakandian doctors helped him calculate the minimum daily calories and nutrition it would take to keep him alive and functional. He would lose enough body weight to not look like a supersized linebacker and could grow out his beard and hide his face. Wanda suggested gingerish brown for his hair color to be 'less fake'.

He was glad she'd agreed to go with Barton after the charges were dropped but he'd made a deal that he would keep in touch with her. He couldn't keep in touch with anyone else.

There was a price for living off the grid but he was willing to pay it if it would keep his conscious friends safe.

He trusted T'Challa and Sam to look after Bucky.

It would be interesting to 'return from the dead' again as a criminal instead of a historical hero if he got another shot at trying to have a life.

** ** **

"Shit shit shit shit shit, wake up, please wake up - "

He was trimming his beard in preparation for his first attempt at dyeing it to match his new hair when the woman's panicked whisper drifted through the single tiny window that opened into the alley stairwell.

Shit was right. He'd only been nesting here for three weeks and he didn't want to have to start over this soon. But he couldn't live with himself if he didn't check on the voice.

"Oh God, they're coming, think Trish, think..."

He sighed and slid his feet into the old-man slippers donated to the cause by Scott. He unlocked his three deadbolts and let himself out and up the stairs.

The streetlight was too far away to illuminate the dim alley but he had decent night vision and spotted a prone figure, a waif of a woman that smelled like whiskey and science - never a good mix - and a blond civilian huddled over her. He zoned out and counted four - no - five sets of heavy footsteps nearby.

Too close. Were they here for him? No, they couldn't be.

He had already made his way to the pair of women with his hands out to show he was a non-threat. "Who's after you?"

The blonde, Trish, he assumed glanced around, visibly panicked with her friend's blood on her hands and clothes.

"I can't cover for you if I don't know who's after you," Steve said.

"I don't know - ninjas or something, they're not even after us, they're after the red guy and - " she started.

Hell's Kitchen so Daredevil, not Deadpool. He held out his keys to Trish and carefully picked up the bleeding woman. "Open the door, there's a first aid kit in the bathroom and I'm right behind you. Now," he said and his 'Captain' voice spurred her into action and she scampered down the stairs to swing the door open.

He placed the lady on the couch still covered with an abandoned but washed blanket from the closet

 

.  
.  
.  
.

 

  
The ninjas were actual ninjas - and good ones - but he had been trained by better and made quick work of incapacitating them a few blocks away before returning to his mousehole.

Trish had stripped the lady to her bra and Steve blushed automatically and looked away quickly so he could lock the door and switch on the self-installed alley camera to keep an eye on his stairway.

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet, ma'am, I might make you replace that couch with one that costs as much as your shoes. " She was wearing Pepper Potts' priced shoes. "Did you call an ambulance?"

Trish hesitated. Of course. The wounded lady was enhanced from the steady thrum of her heartbeat. She finally shook her head that she had not.

"Good. I don't need anyone knowing my address. I know a little about field medicine. Does she have gifts? Strength or psychic or - "

"Who are you?"

"Nobody," he replied. "I don't want to know your names or anything - I just need you out of my place ASAP," he said. "The reasons you didn't call an ambulance are the same reasons I need you out of here - we'll just say we're both uninsured."

Trish seemed to make a decision and nodded. "Okay, yeah. She's strong and fast - like Daredevil but -"

"Daredevil isn't enhanced like she is. Okay. I'm not comfortable touching her when she's undressed without consent so I'll talk you through it. I'm strong enough to restrain her if she wakes up but you make sure that you're the first person she sees before she freaks out."

Trish blinked at him.

"How many bullets?"

"I think it was a sword, I didn't hear any shots but she could have hit her head or maybe poison or - " Trish said in a rush.

"Okay, so her heartbeat's steady and her breathing's not compromised, can you check and see if it went through clean?" Steve asked, digging into the first aid suitcase for supplies as Trish rolled her friend slightly to check.

"Yeah, smaller than the front," Trish answered. "Will you look?"

He scanned the wound. "Looks clean, if it was poison, I'd expect some kind of inflammation. Check her head," he said.

Trish obediently checked her for more injuries. "I don't feel any bumps or blood."

"That's good, hopefully it's just a stab wound and maybe exhaustion or drunkenness knocking her out. She's too thin, she's not eating enough for her metabolism," Steve said, thinking aloud. "How fast does she heal?"

"Faster than Daredevil and slower than the Wolverine," Trish replied.

Logan healed instantly so that wasn't much info to go on. "Let's wash the wounds and bandage her for now and see if she needs stitches in a few hours."

Trish shuddered. "I can't do that, I can almost deal with the blood but bandages and stitches - "

"Hey. If you're her friend and she trusts you with her secrets, then I guarantee you can do it. I'm not a doctor or a medic, I'm a stranger and that means I'm dangerous to her. I won't touch her without permission," Steve said. It wasn't an immediate emergency and he had new rules.

"Fine, God, tell me what to do," she said.

He held out a hand sanitizer. "Wash your hands and then put on these gloves, you're going to splash-wash the wound with antiseptic and then tape this gauze pad onto the wound. If she doesn't wake up from the sting, we'll do the back. Not too much tape because we're going to change them a couple of times."

"Got it. Clean hands, gloves, now splash," she said.

The brunette gasped sharply, shuddering awake and he caught her hand an instant before she lashed out at Trish.

"Jess, hey, it's just me, breathe, okay?" Trish visibly relaxed at her friend's consciousness. Steve released his grip on Jess' arm and she immediately hissed in pain.

"What - where are we?"

Trish cut her eyes at him. "A good Samaritan's place. Are you functional? Because he won't fix you until you say he can. I don't know if he's shy or scared of lawsuits, but I could really use some relief from all this blood right now."

Jess narrowed her eyes at him but he could see the glaze of pain over her pupils. "What's your deal?"

"I need you to stop bleeding and get out of my apartment," Steve replied. "I don't need any trouble, especially your kind of trouble."

"Fair enough, can you stitch me up?" Jess asked gruffly.

"Sure. Ma'am, if you want to wash up, the bathroom's over there. There's no door on it but we can't see from here," Steve said.

"He's unbelievable with all this modesty shit," Trish muttered. "Thank you."

"Nice shithole you have here. I didn't even know this building was occupied," Jess said as Steve pulled on the gloves and checked the half-bandaged wound. It was already knitting together so he picked the stitches that would dissolve before showing her the needle still in the sterile packet.

"I'm going to question the fuck out of you when I'm less dizzy," Jess said.

"No you aren't. You're going to hang out until both your clothes are clean and not bloodstained as hell and then you're going to disappear and go back to thinking this building is unoccupied," Steve replied. "Please."

Jess scanned him again. "You're in hiding? Registration or regular cops?"

"Doesn't matter. I'll be gone before dawn if you - " Steve said, sliding the needle into her still-weeping wound and making note that she didn't flinch.

"He took out the ninjas you missed, he's doing us a favor," Trish called from the bathroom.

"You took them out? How trained are you?" Jess asked immediately.

"Doesn't matter. I'm not in the game."

"Daredevil's missing," Jess said.

Steve cursed. "Have you checked with his friend?"

"His friend - wait, you know who he is?" she asked immediately.

"I used to. I'm not in the game, I cannot get involved," Steve replied. But Murdock was a good guy. The Kitchen needed him. "Do you think the military got him? He's not enhanced, he should be off the list…"

Trish stepped out in a set of his old sweats that were way too big for her. "You know way too much about all of this not to be involved."

Shit. He was going to have to move. He would finish the stitches and grab his bag on his way out to 'get more supplies' or something and disappear before they knew he was gone.

But Murdock. Hell, he'd have to make sure he was okay first. He couldn't leave town without making sure he was secure.

"Hey. Don't pull a runner yet. If you're off the grid for the right reasons then you don't have to worry about us talking," Jess said.

He motioned to his laptop with the hand he wasn't using to twist off the knot. "Open that."

Trish shrugged but followed instructions. The old computer whirred to life and a black box opened with a cursor.

He reached over and typed Fury's number and waited for it to blink out before returning to wrap Jess' shoulder. It only took a few minutes before his burner phone rang. He held it to his ear with his shoulder.

"Already?"

"Yeah. Random ninjas in my alley, got a couple of strays. DD's MIA."

"Who's with you?"

"Skinny, possibly alcoholic Emo and chirpy sidekick with expensive shoes," Steve replied, ignoring Jessica's rude gesture.

"Huh. Jones."

He glanced over at his patient. "Jones?" She flipped him off again so he returned his attention to the phone. "Yeah."

"She's a white hat, solo. Find that red asshole and call me back, I'll work on another safehouse in case you can't make nice."

"You know DD will know who I am," Steve reminded.

"It wouldn't hurt to have him watching your back. Give me follow up intel once you find the devil. How's the disguise?"

"Half-done," Steve sighed. "I'll be in touch."

"Who's that?"

"Another dead man. He vouches for you. Tell me what you know about Daredevil being missing," Steve said. "I have to secure him before I ditch town."

** ** **

"Um, sorry," Trish said, raising her hand. "Won't you need backup to go into a ninja lair?"

Steve looked away from the building layouts he had open onscreen after Fury's convenient follow up Intel popped into his cloud. "I'm not going to kill them all or anything. I'm just going to get Daredevil out alive and somewhere safe. He can handle his own shit. Usually."

"Your beard doesn't match your hair," Jessica said.

"Shit. I don't have time to fix it. I want to have this done before dawn. It's dark, I'll wear a hat," he said to himself, his hand going to his face. "I don't think I have a hat."

"You don't have much of anything," Trish echoed.

"I had another week before I was scheduled to integrate to the outside world," Steve replied absently. "Now I'm going to have to start all over."

"I thought witness protection would set you up nicer than this," Trish remarked.

He didn't think they put traitors in witness protection.

"Weapons or do you go all bare-knuckled like Jess?" Trish asked.

Steve suddenly realized how fucked he really was. If Murdock was hurt, he wouldn't be able to bring him back here to stitch him up with the women that didn't know his identity inside. And he didn't trust them to leave since they seemed to be settling in with his coffeepot and oversized spare clothes.

This was a mess all around. "I shouldn't have let you do laundry."

"You shouldn't have let us in at all," Jess said. "I don't make friends easily but you seem like one I'd like on my side."

"Ditto. You've got issues but we all do," Trish added. "You didn't have to help us and you don't have to help Daredevil but you are even though it's putting you at risk. Of course if you turn out to be a bad guy, all bets are off."

He took a deep breath. "Sunflower marmalade."

"Excuse me?" Trish asked.

"That's the password. Don't let anyone inside unless they give you the password."

He could run solo missions. He was ready.

** ** **

He was slightly relieved that ninjas weren't actually the ones holding Murdock, these thugs were just using him for bait. It only took a quick glance to see how the incompetent gangsters had caught him considering the injuries he had probably been hiding for days before they got to him.

He used the nifty Icer from one of the weapon caches set up with Fury's epic 'long game' planning and made his way into the warehouse seamlessly without throwing a punch until he got to the rickety cell.

Matt Murdock, still masked, smiled and actually turned his face into Steve's shoulder without protest when he picked him up and started the trek to the clearest exit.

"Who sent you?"

"Jessica Jones said Daredevil was missing. She accidentally had a run in with some ninjas on your behalf. I'm dead."

"I'm glad you're not. Is she okay?"

Steve huffed. "So you do know her?"

"She doesn't know my real identity, but we're acquainted. They were going to unmask me when the big boss got here, I'm just glad you got here first," Matt slurred.

"I know your real identity. I'm going to leave town as soon - "

"I didn't even know you were in town."

Steve clicked the key fob to open the door to his stolen SUV and carefully dumped Matt on the backseat. "I can't take you to your place like this and I need to know if you're okay with Jessica finding out who you are. She's not as busted as you but she's hurt."

"One condition. Don't leave town until I'm conscious enough to talk to you first."

Steve sighed. "Fuck you." But Matt was out.

** ** **

"We're going to need you both to sign NDA's before Cap lets you leave," Matt slurred, groggy from the dose of painkillers Steve had paused long enough to drop into his water on the way from ditching the car.

Steve winced at the final nail in his 'immediate extraction needed' coffin as he placed Matt on the couch vacated and recently covered with his sleeping blanket instead of the tarp now that Jessica was upright enough to sit in the chair with four legs.

"Fuck. No wonder you're in hiding - we totally have your back," Trish said with wide eyes.

Jessica joined him at Matt's side and he avoided looking at either of them and focused on looking for the zipper or snaps of the suit.

"I'm going to take off your mask and check your wounds, are you okay with them being here?" Steve asked, hoping he'd say no.

"You have to give consent or he won't fix you," Jessica volunteered.

Matt huffed out a pained laugh. "We got that out of the way the first time we met, Jones."

"Don't make jokes right now," Steve said. "And your place is a mess, when's the last time you went home? Your office is closed and - " he blurted out.

"You did recon?" Matt asked, raising his chin for Steve to peel off his mask and blinking his unseeing eyes at the cool air on his swollen face.

Jessica hissed out a curse and Trish thumped her.

Maybe he'd get a mousehole in the Caribbean. Somewhere with a no extradition policy. And a hot tub with a whirlpool.

"Shit went bad. I lost...everything," Matt said suddenly, swallowing thickly. "I got sloppy and - I can't believe those people got the drop on me."

"You're busted up pretty good, Matt. Tell me where you're hurt, you can tell without an x-ray, right?" Steve said quietly.

Matt hummed. "Six broken fingers, both wrists. Bullet in the shin but it's clean through. Can't tell if I'm pissing blood but I'm pretty sure my guts are intact. Three ribs, right side are probably cracked."

Steve could work with that. "All right, buddy. I'm going to start an IV and layer you with icepacks. I've got some meds that will help your bones heal faster but that's up to you."

Matt swallowed again. "As long as it doesn't put me to sleep. I trust you, just..."

"You are one of the many people that's tried to teach me meditation so we're going to try that before I dose you. If the ladies can help. I mean Trish, not Jessica. I'm not sure she counts as a lady."

"Icepacks, on it. I saw them when I was searching your fridge," Trish nodded. "What else?"

"Some water to go around and whatever towels I have left." He turned to Jessica who was waving her hand over Matt's face.

"Am I delirious or is that Trish Walker?" Matt asked.

"NDA's all around, he already said," Jess replied.

Steve would have to Google her later. He leaned down and pulled out his 'End of the Line' emergency suitcase and retrieved a bottle of scotch and a rosary, leaving the pistol and vibranium razor wire in place.

Jessica looked away quickly without comment. He had a feeling she would have shrugged if her shoulder wasn't split open.

"Cap?" Matt whispered.

"Still here. Close your eyes," Steve instructed. It didn't matter that Matt was blind, he still closed his eyes when he slept. He laid his palm across his face. "Focus on my heartbeat, okay? I don't want you to count or think. You're going to take a deep breath and then three big swallows of scotch."

"Do you want glasses?" Trish asked, returning with the supplies.

"We're Irish, we don't need glasses," Steve said, earning a groggy smile from Matt and a snicker from Jessica. "All right, Matt. We're going to do a rosary all right? Focus on my heartbeat and we'll start."

"Latin," Matt said. Steve spoke steadily and made sure he stayed calm enough to level out and match his 'patient'. When his friend was mouthing the words automatically and relaxed enough, he removed his hand and went to work sliding the IV into his arm and sorting through the meds for the bone-healing capsules.

** ** **

"Matt Murdock, wow. I did not see that coming," Jessica said when Matt was settled into real sleep under a mountain of icepacks and bandages to keep his reset bones in place as he healed.

"Did you really just make a blind joke?" Steve asked, grateful for the company now that he spotted the full pot of coffee.

"Sit. We're going to have a come to Jesus talk now," Trish ordered, much different now that her best friend wasn't bleeding out and he was no longer a stranger.

"What was with that Catholic shit anyway?" Jessica made a face.

Steve shrugged. "I think he's more a believer than I am but whatever gives him comfort. I was raised Catholic but I know last rites and prayers in eight languages. I've prayed with Jews, Muslims, Mormons, Buddhists and once, a Pagan, when they were injured under my command. If a man's willing to die for following my lead then I have the responsibility of respecting their beliefs."

Jessica slowly shook her head. "I feel dirty just listening to you."

Trish thumped her in her good shoulder and turned to Steve. "You're skinny as hell and you look like a stray cat. Obviously someone knows you're here but they didn't put enough food to keep you healthy."

"Rapid metabolism, probably like Jessica's. If she ate more and drank less, she would be healthier, too. I need to start a new life where I don't have to keep in shape. I mean, the first thing I'm going to do when I get out of here is run 10 miles, but I have to change my appearance if I want to live outside of a moldy basement any time soon," Steve said.

"We didn't recognize you, how did he?" Jessica asked.

"He's got enhanced senses, and as gross as it sounds out loud, he knows my scent. I wanted to be close to home and the Kitchen's safe because Daredevil takes care of it."

"We can help you fit in," Jessica said. "Now that the Devil knows you're here, and I know you're here; we can keep our eyes on the streets for you so you won't have to worry."

Trish nodded. "And I'm on top of your makeover."

"We'll get you a job at the docks or construction with other people using fake ID's for clean living attempts," Jessica continued.

"You'll be part of our 'squad'," Trish said, giving him a thumbs-up.

"It's not safe. When they come for me, they'll come hard and they'll burn down everyone that knew I was here," Steve said.

"Which is why you'll need escape routes that the guy you called on the burner phone doesn't know about either," Jessica said.

"I've been friends with Jessica a long time, we're pretty hard to burn down. You are entirely too nice to be a long-term fugitive," Trish said.

"The Accords aren't going to work the way they are now. They're already drawing lines in the sand that - " Jessica started quietly.

He held up his hand. "I'm not - "

"Where is your friend? The Winter Soldier?" Trish interrupted.

He closed his mouth. He was over the coffee glow and wanted them to be out of his space now. "I won't talk about him. He's not relevant to my new story," he recited finally. He had to believe that if he wanted to keep everyone safe.

"Okay. So we'll never be bringing that up again if it makes you sound like that," Trish said.

"Thank you," Steve conceded.

** ** **

"This whiskey tastes expensive," Matt said, flexing his repaired fingers with an awed expression. Trish had left to go to work since it was long past dawn but Jessica had settled into their space.

"It is *so* expensive. Howard Stark had me in his will, left me a shit-ton. I always figured it was one of the reasons Tony hated me - his father had to be dead 100 years before the estate would release what he left to me and I have all the scotch," Steve said. "The oldest, most expensive Scotch collection on the East Coast."

"You're thinner. I figured when the rest of your crew had the charges dismissed that you..." Matt started.

"He doesn't have to talk about that," Jessica spoke.

"It was my fuck-up, not theirs. We all made deals. I'm legally dead and they won't try me for treason or prosecute me unless I turn up alive. They'll find my body, pieces of it, in a few months," Steve said.

"How many people know you're alive?"

"Counting you? 9," he answered easily.

"Let's keep it that way. If you hit double digits, it'll be a problem but 9's doable," Jessica said.

Steve snorted. "Only 1 person knew where I was before you two bled all over my hiding place."

"That's even better," Jess said. "Nothing has to change for you apart from your hair and your public life choices. You won't last long around the Kitchen being all respectful and shit."

"It's conditional," Steve said, accepting that he wouldn't be able to get out clean right now. He was invested. Matt didn't look good, even if his body was healing - he was not okay.

"Here it comes," Matt said but he's half-smiling. That's like a grin for him.

He pointed at Jessica. "You let me train you. You've got bruises like a brawler and you should be faster than that. Your strength is not your superpower, it's about how you use it." He turned to Matt before she could protest. "And you - you're going back to church and getting off the streets for a week - minimum. You are not well-enough to play vigilante this week."

"I'd rather take self-defense lessons than church so I'm in," Jessica snickered.

"I can't just...quit," Matt said after a beat.

"I know. I'm not asking you to stop." Steve leaned forward even though his friend couldn't see him. "You let a bunch of idiots catch you and hold you hostage for days. You work solo and that's fucking sloppy, okay? You need to get your shit together."

Matt didn't reply.

"Sorry. If I let you help me then you have to let me help you," Steve said.

** ** **

  
_i'm a scholar and a gentleman_  
_and i usually don't fall when i try to stand_

 

"So, what's my squad's stance on my relationship status?" Steve asked as he politely admired Jessica's swerve up the stairs.

Jess snorted. "Hey, you're in charge of your own dates, Mr. Tobias. Unless you need ID for your guests, too." If he had a secret girl - or boy - friend in the wings, surely they would be in hiding with him already.

"Not so much," Steve snorted.

She wasn't sure where this conversation was heading but she was definitely curious. She unlocked the door to the apartment conveniently located in Matt Murdock's building.

Jessica didn't know Murdock well, mostly by reputation, but she had picked up that he was having a rough few months. He had latched onto Steve like a beacon and it helped to have a native of the Kitchen vouching for Tobias when she lined up his fake history. She's still not sure how squeaky-clean Captain America knew Daredevil, the vigilante, in the past.

Steve scanned the apartment scattered with IKEA crates delivered earlier. Trish was very invested in Tobias settling into his new 'identity' and had taken charge of the decorating and wardrobe.

"Walk me through Steve Tobias and his questionable relationship status if you need to," Jessica said as he carefully opened the first of the boxes.

Steve smirked at her and stretched to crack his shoulders. "How am I doing on the 'soldier' posture?"

She hadn't processed that he had changed his swagger consciously but now that he pointed it out - the bastard was right. "You haven't called anyone ma'am all day, so points for that."

"My flirting game needs work in civvies," Steve said. "I've never been cut out for boyfriend material, in any of my previous lives."

"What's Tobias, three?" she questioned.

"Five, I think. Skinny Steve, spent a lot of time on his knees paying rent and not a lot of time with ladies that needed boyfriends," he replied with an easy shrug that did nothing to soothe her shock. "Then Captain America, who spent a year on tour with a lot of lonely ladies that didn't need a boyfriend as much as a good lay. Then Captain Rogers, who had a boyfriend and a girlfriend and didn't manage to take care of either of them."

Jessica winced but didn't interrupt. Yet. But ouch.

"My most recent incarnation, post-defrost, kept his liaisons in-house with explicit boundaries," he said. "He only slept with friends that understood they would never be more than friends. He was pretty hung up on the past, you know."

"Sure," Jessica agreed blandly.

"So, Tobias. I'm a three-time college dropout with a couple of outstanding warrants for drug possession that keep me from dropping my social security number on applications. I grew up with money in the suburbs and like expensive liquor and poppy-rock music that I can dance to. I have commitment issues and tend to hook up with coworkers and gym partners that enjoy getting high and getting off together," Steve said.

"Ah. I will make a note of that," Jessica snickered.

"Cool. So, are you still going to let me train you, because some of that might take place in a gym," Steve said.

"Yeah, your flirting game needs a lot of work, Tobias."

** ** **

"Margarita Mondays?" Trish greeted Steve at his door with her phone.

Steve gave her a hug, true to Tobias' bio of warm and cuddly 'bro' and ushered her inside. He pointed at Matt sitting on the couch with an empty beer. "Tell him he's pretty."

"Fuck you, Steve," Matt frowned.

"Okay, what's the situation here?" she asked, kicking off her shoes and glancing between the two unfairly attractive men. They were also too unfairly complicated to factor into her bedroom at this point in her life. Yet.

"Matt's having girlfriend angst," Steve said. "He says I'm being unhelpful but unlike him, I worked eight hours today and have no concept of how to help other than hold his hair when he gets drunk enough to talk."

"I hate margaritas," Matt said.

Jessica flounced into the apartment holding her phone. "Mojito Mondays?"

"Meatloaf Mondays? Macaroni? Mimosa? Throw me a bone," Steve groaned. "I need legitimate social contact right now and I'm catching shit."

Jessica and Trish shared a confused look.

"You're both very pretty," Trish said finally.

"Thank you," Steve said.

"I could go for some mac and cheese if you have good cheese," Matt sighed.

"Challenge accepted," Steve replied.

 

 _oh i'm sorry_  
_i didn't mean any of it_  
_i just got too lonely_  
_in between being young and being right_  
_you were my Versailles at night_

 

  
"Steve?"

He probably should be embarrassed at Matt walking in on him bundled in a handmade blanket with Wanda but he didn't have the energy.

"'Oh. I didn't know you had company," Matt said after a beat.

Steve snorted. "Of course you did."

"Lock the door if you are staying for the vigil," Wanda said. "Tobias is sloppy."

"I'm not Tobias. Still Steve," he told her without taking his head off her shoulder. The lock and four deadbolts clicked and thunked closed behind him.

"I'm Matt, I live downstairs."

"Wendy," Wanda introduced herself.

Steve closed his eyes. His friends couldn't even use their real names around him.

"I'm glad you're one of his 'nine', I was worried the spy would be here," Matt said after a beat.

"And I'm glad he has the Devil of Hell's Kitchen living in his building," Wanda smiled.

"Guys," Steve sighed.

"Is everything all right? Your boss said you called in sick and you don't usually have company," Matt said.

"They're going to announce his death today," Wanda said quietly. "He has to remember that he's not alone."

"Oh. Shit."

"I don't want to watch it at all. I don't know why you think I need to watch it," Steve said. "I could be at work or - "

"Then all you'd do is hear everyone else talk about it," Matt replied. "She's right. You should be with friends."

"I tried to convince him to invite his lady friend but he's playing coy," Wanda said.

Matt smiled. "Oh really."

"I don't know where she's getting that from," Steve protested, sniffing primly.

"The pillow off his bed was covered in hair and he currently doesn't have any," Wanda said, scrubbing her knuckles over his shaved head.

"Is it okay if I sit vigil with you?"

Steve hummed his consent. "But we can't drink the good scotch without Jessica. Or the good wine without Trish."

"What about me?" Matt huffed.

"You get the good weed."

** ** **

Jessica, for once, was glad to find Matt at Steve's apartment. But she wasn't sure how she felt about Pixie Dream Girl cuddled with him on the floor in front of the colorful cartoons on TV.

"First the door's unlocked and now strangers are crawling through your fire escape. I am beginning to doubt you're capable of taking care of yourself at all," the woman said.

"Oh. That's Jessica. Hey, Jess," Steve grinned dopily at her.

"Hey. What's going on?" she asked, finally spotting Matt sputtering around in the kitchen. For a blind guy, he was definitely familiar with Steve's wet bar.

"We're holding vigil for the late, great, Captain America," Matt said. "We had to turn the news off for a break."

She wondered if anyone was going to mention the fog of pot smoke and the cuddle pile.

"Come, sit down. You have to meet Wanda. You're going to hate each other, it's going to be great," Steve said.

"You're pretty cheery for a dead guy," Jess said.

"Lock the window behind you," Wanda said.

 

  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

 

  
"I need an extraction," Fury said.

It had been a few months since he'd made contact but Steve had been at high alert since the Accords started to go off the rails.

"One of my nine?" Steve asked.

"No. But things are shit everywhere else and it's too delicate for me to let anyone else take it. Shit's going to get nasty. Your crew can work out the paperwork. You're dead so it'll be hard to trace it to you anyway. It's really important he keeps his identity a secret."

"He has a family?"

"Yeah. And he's not old enough for a driver's license. He threw in with Stark before he realized he'd have to register publicly and lose his anonymity. Now he's fucked."

Steve considered his words. "Queens?"

"What?"

"Spiderman. He's underage?"

"Yeah. Stark can't protect him right now and he doesn't know me from Adam."

"How do you know?"

"No matter who signs her paycheck - Maria's on my team. She wants me to get him out and I'm in the middle of something bigger. You've got a crew now and you seem to be doing well staying off the radar so it would be a favor - "

"Not a favor. You and I are beyond favors," Steve said honestly.

Fury huffed out what was probably supposed to be a laugh.

"I'll get my 'squad' on it. Where can I find him?"

"He'll be at Grand Central in three hours putting his aunt on a train. I'll pull Maria out of the loop as soon as you confirm he's off the field."

"You want me to bring her in on it?"

"That's on you. But if you can help this kid then she won't hesitate to start funneling strays to you."

Steve snorted. "I'm not Xavier."

"That's the problem. Kids that aren't mutants get powers, too."

** ** **

"He'll be here."

"I can't believe you're just pawning me off on a stranger."

"You have to keep your head down and staying with your cousin, Tobias, will keep you safe. Keep your aunt safe. You've been around the Tower enough to know how this works."

"I know, I have to be invisible."

Steve stepped out of the shadows and recognized the body type of wiry little Spiderman and Maria looking sharp in a pencil skirt and blouse that made her look more like an executive than a military rank.

They both turned when he walked up to them in his new 'uniform'. Baggy shirt, skinny jeans and dark beard that didn't have to match his close-shaved hair under his stocking cap.

"Hey, sorry I'm late," he said. It was only after he smiled and flashed his teeth that he realized his mistake.

"Tobias?" Maria whispered with wide eyes before yanking him into a hug. "You *fucking* bastard." Maria knew his smile.

"Don't use that kind of language around the kid. Our aunt would not approve. Peter, it's nice to meet you and I'm sorry I missed May before she left on her vacation. I'm Tobias."

The kid blinked at him but shook his hand firmly. "Sure."

"I hope you're okay staying with me for the rest of the semester because I'd feel weird sleeping in Aunt May's bed for three months when I can get you to school and work just as easily from my place," Steve said.

"What? But - invisible," Peter said, glancing at Maria.

"We'll talk on the way. Ms. Hill, Peter will call you later, thanks so much for looking after him today," Steve said.

Maria grabbed his wrist. "Tobias," she said, pronouncing every syllable meaningfully. "I believed it."

"You still have to believe it or this will all be for nothing. Peter will call you later," he said.

She finally nodded. "Take care of him."

"How bad do they want him?" he asked under his breath.

"They're going to take the Avengers down so they can make their own team, military, with all their powers registered and approved for service before the Accords were passed. With Rhodes walking due to experimental tech, he's not government-sanctioned to be on the committee. Kid didn't know what he was getting into. None of us did," Maria replied.

"Um. So, are we good, Maria?" Peter asked.

She turned to him. "You are stellar. Do whatever Tobias says and fuck everything else I told you. Call me in six hours."

"Get a coffee before you go, there's some shit going down uptown," Steve whispered as she passed him and he waited until he couldn't hear her steps before sending his text. "Subway cool with you? We'll have to take a bus at our stop but we'll get your stuff later."

"I have questions," Peter said, raising his hand.

"Let's catch a ride first."

** ** **

"So," Peter said after maintaining wary obedience for the first three subway changes. "Where are we going?"

"Home," Steve answered. "I work from home and my buddy works at this rental car place so I'll be able to drive you to school and work, for a while anyway. He lets me borrow the cars if I fill them up with gas for him."

"Oh."

"I mean your paying job, by the way. We have to have a come to Jesus talk about your other kind of work. You can't just be running all over town tagging bridges with the cops like they are now," Steve said for any possible listeners. "You know I support what you do, your 'art', but we're going to talk about more productive ways for you to get your skills out there, okay?"

Peter's face slowly lit up. "So I can still - "

"You can still be Peter Parker. That has to be enough for right now," Steve said pointedly.

"Right. Yeah," he replied, face falling.

Steve squeezed his shoulder and held him steady as they got to their final stop. "It's not going to be as bad as you think."

"You don't want to know what I think," Peter murmured.

"So you've only got jokes when you're tearing up airports? I'm a little disappointed," Steve said, smiling as the sun blinded him after the stuffy subway.

"What?" Peter asked, glancing at him narrowly. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Good answer," Steve replied. Jessica beeped the horn from the street and he acknowledged her and she revved up the engine to confirm.

"No, really, I have no idea. Is this our ride? I thought we were taking a bus, who's she? Does Maria know other people are in on this?" Peter started in a rapid fire burst. "Where are we going?"

"You're going to have so much fun with that chatter. I'm never coming over," Jessica snorted as Steve held open the door for him to get in.

"Yes, you will. Taco Tuesdays," Steve reminded her.

Jessica huffed.

Steve turned his full attention to Peter in the safety of the car. "We haven't been fully introduced. Name's Steve Tobias. From Brooklyn. I hear you're from Queens."

Peter gasped sharply but his face split into a grin. "Oh my God, seriously? SERIOUSLY?"

"He doesn't talk about it and you can't bring it up," Jessica said. "You can never tell anyone. Personally, I think the risk is too big for him to do this at all."

"We did our best to hide your extracurricular activities but we still have some work to do wiping your face off all the security footage and place you visibly alibi-able somewhere else," Steve said. "School attendance records and photographic timestamps on your work for the paper. Jess is the only person that knows the real reason you're staying with me and we're going to keep it that way. Right?"

"But - okay. You'll give me the cover story and I'll memorize it."

"We're not changing your identity. The only thing you have to remember is that I'm your cousin, Steve Tobias," he said. "Nothing else."

"Awesome. Yes. But before I zip my lips, can I just say - it's really great you're not dead."

** ** **

"Wow, how much prep time did you get?" Peter asked, spotting the stack of boxes labeled in crooked scrawl in the corner of the main room.

"Not enough. Steve's contact snitched that from your house while we were running fake alibis for you," Jessica said. "You're here long term."

Peter fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing around the space.

"We had three hours notice so you can't judge him for not making it hospitable yet. It's Waffle Wednesday so I'm hanging out. Feng shui around me or something," Jessica said, flopping down on the cot.

"Does she live here, too?"

"No, but she stays over sometimes."

 

 

.  
.  
.  
.  
.

 

 

.

"So, Tony's been leaving me messages on my public phone. I don't think he trusts that Maria's telling the truth," Peter said. "And I figure since you refuse to talk about that airport stuff or your missing bff that I shouldn't talk to him."

Steve knew it would come up. Tony looked after his friends. The ones that earned it, he figured, and he'd never be as close with Tony as he was with Howard.

"Steve? I'm sorry, I shouldn't - "

"Set up a meeting at your Aunt's place. He's been seen there before and your nosy neighbors won't think anything of it. They're used to Cousin Tobias being with you so they shouldn't talk when your mentor wants to meet me."

Peter hesitated. "But what if he recognizes you? I mean, he was pretty messed up when they found your body."

"Yeah, probably because he didn't get to kill me himself. I don't want him thinking you're a traitor for staying with me."

"Um. I don't think he's mad at you anymore. He was calling your friend, Mr. Wilson, all the time before I stopped patrolling Manhattan," Peter said. "Plus, the charges were dismissed against you even before they pretended to kill you."

"Yeah, because I made the deal to stay dead," Steve said.

"But Maria knows. And your new friends know. I know," Peter said.

Steve sighed. "I made the deal, Peter. I promised to help you. Stark's not going to let it go until he knows you're okay."

"I promise he won't kill you," Peter said with a mixed expression.

Steve hated that all these months hiding and trying to live without a war was going to come to an end. Tony would do anything to get to Bucky and he knew that he wouldn't be coming back to the Kitchen if he met with him.

Arrangements had to be made.

Peter avoided his eyes. "Shit, you look like I just handed you a death sentence, just forget it all right?"

"Give me a couple of days to get things together and we'll meet him. He's a part of your life in and out of the suit," Steve said. "That means you get to keep him."

He'd have to make sure Maria was with Stark when they came to get him. She'd get Peter out.

"Steve?"

He's glad he outlined a protocol for this.

** ** **

 

 

 

  
"Take care of yourself. I hope to see you on Fajita Friday but I get it. You're doing the right thing," Matt murmured in his ear.

"Thanks. I'll see you again, no matter what. Thanks for making me stick around this long," Steve said. "You'll keep looking out for Jess, and vice versa?"

"We got the protocol."

Peter was frowning darkly when Steve finally joined him beside today's rental. "You really think he's going to turn you in and you're still coming?"

"We'll see how it plays out, Peter. It'll all be fine," Steve promised. He was just a kid and this face-off was inevitable.

"I'll talk to him first, I'll make sure - "

"This isn't your problem, Peter. It's never been your problem. Just don't make all of this be for nothing. Hopefully you picked up enough about staying off the radar to keep you safe until you're at least old enough to not get snitched up as a ward of the state," Steve said.

"I won't because I'm obviously coming back to the apartment with you when we're done because he's not going to turn you in," Peter beamed.

Steve wanted to tell him that Tony would have tails and trackers ready and he would get tagged even if Stark didn't turn him in. But the kid wasn't stupid. Just oblivious to the bureaucracy of the battles outside of the suit. "Sure," he said finally.

He had his exit ready and someone would pick up today's borrowed rental if he sent the alert. Even if his friends didn't like it, they understood and had his back.

He would miss the fuck out of them.

"You even have your bags packed, Steve, seriously?" Peter sighed when they were on the road.

"I told you not to worry about it.

 

   
_and i don't feel like i used to_  
_and you don't look like you want to_  
  
_not broke if it can't be fixed_  
_not real if you question it_

  
_not clean if we're still a mess_  
_and we're still a mess_

  
_and its not like it won't get you too_  
_i was just like you_

  

"Tobias. Where did you come from? Why don't I know you?" Tony asked.

It had been over a year since he'd seen the man in person. He looked tired. Steve knew the feeling.

Peter cleared his throat nervously. "So. He knew my Dad when he was a kid and he's been great. He drives me to school and work and - "

Tony held up his hand. "Stand down, Kid. I know the official story. The place isn't bugged, you weren't followed. I just want to talk to your friend. Cousin."

"You told him Maria would be here," Peter said when Steve didn't reply. He was trying to recognize the footsteps in the kitchen.

"Who did you bring instead?" Steve asked.

Tony was painfully alert when he spoke but he could tell that Stark still didn't recognize him. It didn't make him feel safer.

Sam Wilson stepped into the room with a wary wave. "Hey. I'm Sam."

"This is a good thing, right?" Peter asked after a beat.

"I asked Maria to sit this one out. She considers you safe enough to trust with Peter's life but doesn't seen to consider me safe enough to trust with yours," Tony said. "Sam was the only person she would concede to come in her place which makes me think this is bigger than a name on a list."

Steve glanced over at Peter. "Go check your aunt's plants and give us a few minutes."

Sam sucked in a sharp breath before Peter could follow instructions. "Tobias."

Steve missed the hell out of Sam. Shit. "Tell me I'm not in danger and I'll count to ten."

"You're not in danger. But I'm going to put my foot up an old half-blind man's ass the next time I see him," Sam said, marching forward and yanking him into a choking hug.

Nick could've told Steve that Tony and Sam were in contact. He could've warned him.

"Damn, you're thin as a rail. I swear you're not being tracked," Sam said, finally stepping back.

Steve believed him. He trusted Sam. "Okay." He turned to Tony. "I'm going to count to ten. No sleep 'til Brooklyn."

The pass-phrase rippled across Tony's face like he'd been punched but there was no doubt Tony knew who he was now.

"You - oh fuck, no wonder Maria wouldn't tell me - she didn't know it was you when she arranged it for Peter, did she?" Tony blurted out.

Steve shook his head. "I made a deal. My old - persona - is out of play. I'm out of the game. This was a favor for a friend."

Tony finally approached and raised both hands to check his face. He tilted his chin down and accepted the kiss.

"You taste like whiskey," Tony said.

"You don't. Weird," Steve conceded.

"Um," Peter said. "I'm going to water those plants now."

"It's Stark's half of the 'prove you're not a clone' test," Steve explained when Sam boggled at him, too. "You look like hell."

"Back at'cha, Scarecrow," Tony muttered, clasping a wrist. "Jesus, I thought I was going to make nice with a contact that could help me get an underground going and it turns out - it's fucking you. Goddammit."

"He means he's really glad you're not actually dead," Sam said. Steve could tell by the way Tony was trembling and hadn't let go of his arm yet.

Steve trusted Sam. Maybe he would get to go home for Fajita Friday after all.

"There's somebody else that's going to be pretty glad," Tony said. "How safe are you, with or without Peter?"

"I'm off-grid," Steve replied. "I'm a graphic artist, I design ads and tattoos and when I need extra cash, I fill in at restaurants as a sous chef. I can also get decent weed but I'm not a dealer," he added. "Got priors and all that."

"No wonder we couldn't find any trace of him on the watchlist," Sam muttered.

"Peter's as safe as he can be right now. I know he misses his aunt, and his 'science uncle' but I can't make that work right now," Steve said.

"And if the Avengers need Spiderman?" Tony asked.

Steve's not sideswiped by the question but it still stung. "Spiderman picks his own battles. All I ask is he gives me notice so I can cover his alibis. That goes for when you tag him in, too."

"So you've got a network capable of covering for him?" Sam asked, glaring at Tony. Steve wondered when they'd become so close. But he had been dead for a while.

"Yeah, as long as he plays it smart and keeps it local," Steve shrugged.

Peter stepped in with a wilted plant. "They're teaching me how to cover my own tracks, too. I know how to break into all kinds of places now that I can pick real locks," he added.

Steve rolled his eyes. "He already knew how to pick locks. How much do you know about me from what he told you?"

"Pop quiz," Peter muttered.

"You smoke a lot of pot but you have a totally legal prescription and your best friends are most likely alcoholics that totally don't have a problem," Tony replied.

"I do have a prescription," Steve said.

"Sure, 'Tobias'," Peter snickered.

"But you're okay. Safe," Sam said, sobering the momentary lapse.

"Yeah," Steve nodded. "I am. As long as I'm Tobias, I'm doing fine because all my friends are safe, too."

"Maybe not 'all'," Tony said. "That's one of the reasons I wanted to meet you in person. I have a friend who could use a soft exit. Well, we're not exactly on speaking terms at the moment, but I hope we're still friends on the other side of all this."

"I know that feeling," Steve replied.

Sam cleared his throat. "Natasha wants out of the game. She can't go to Barton because Wanda doesn't want her there."

Steve frowned. "I'll have to talk to her about that. She knows Nat wouldn't - "

"Of course Wanda still talks to you, she only sends me poop emoticons when I try to make nice," Tony muttered.

"I'll help Nat, absolutely, if my contact had brought her to me already - " he started, wondering why Nick wouldn't get Natasha a better exit.

"She, um, doesn't know you're alive. She wasn't one of your nine," Sam said. "She almost beat Sharon to death when the news dropped," he added.

Steve didn't expect that.

Tony waved him off. "They fucked it out later, sorry Peter, they made up, I mean. Let's take a walk before I lose my shit at your cousin Tobias."

"Is she all right?" Steve asked when he was alone with Sam. God, he couldn't believe Natasha was left on the outside.

"She's angry. She's not talking to your contact at the moment either," Sam said. "I told Barton I'd try to find her an out that wasn't connected to any of her burned out networks."

"I'll make a place for her, give me three days," Steve said without a doubt. "She should have been one of my nine - I assumed Nick would tell her as soon as they made contact."

"She took it really hard. She'll probably kick your ass. I should probably kick your ass - what the hell are you doing stateside?" Sam hissed.

Steve impulsively pulled him into a hug. "I missed you so much, Sam."

"You have no idea," Sam huffed into his shoulder.

 

 

 _When we meet again_  
_Introduced as friends_  
_Please don't let on that you knew me when_  
_I was hungry and it was your world._

 

** ** **

"Do you really know Tobias from rehab? Hey, settle a bet for us - was he in for drinking or molly?"

Natasha eyed the cab driver appraisingly but the old man didn't seem malicious, only curious. "I'm not sure I should answer that."

"Aw, you young people are too loyal for your own good, we aren't going to rat him out for anything. He's a good kid when's he's not baked out of his head," the driver chuckled. "He's been doing better with the kid around, but they could probably use a woman's touch around the place."

How the fuck was a guy that everybody knew going to work as a safehouse? And what 'kid'?

"I haven't talked to him in a while, I hope it's not a shithole," she said when the guy glanced back at her expectantly.

"Pizza guy says they keep it real neat and the neighborhood's not so bad lately. Tobias will look after you, he cooks and everything."

Was that a hint? A pothead that could cook, was that 'safe'? Was anywhere safe for someone like her?

She tipped the guy and promised to tell Tobias that 'Grover' said hello before focusing her full attention on the building in front of her. The flashing neon billboard wasn't encouraging but her new phone buzzed in her jacket.

***i am so sorry. plz come in***

She should have a bad feeling but she only felt numb. If this was her fate, bring it on. She had run out all her other options.

She was glad she only brought one bag when she saw the stairs but it gave her the cardio that should kickstart her instincts if a fight was at the end.

There was a familiar shift in the shadows on the third flight and Daredevil himself stepped into her sightline.

"Oh," she froze. Surely he wasn't her exit. But the Hell's Kitchen address made a little more sense now.

"Long time. You've got another floor to go, I'm just here to make sure you weren't trailed. I'll see you later," he smiled, almost sad, before disappearing again.

She wondered if she'd get to figure out who the fuck that guy was while she was here. It had always bugged her.

At least he was on her new roommate's side. Daredevil was gray enough for her to support his cause, so point for Tobias. Hypothetically.

The door opened before she had to do another gut-check and she's slightly disappointed that she didn't recognize the bearded ginger.

"Are you apologizing for the jeggings situation or something else?" Natasha asked, motioning to his form-fitting jeans.

He moved aside so she could come in and close the door. "I thought you knew. I'm so sorry."

She didn't understand until he took her hand and raised it to kiss her knuckles, his blue eyes striking ice through her chest. "No."

"I thought Nick told you, I swear, I swear to you, Natasha," Steve whispered, wrapping too-thin arms around her and pulling her in.

Steve. Steve was alive. Intact. Steve. "Tobias."

"Yeah. It's so great to see you. I - I have a no-past-life-talk rule here but Peter's staying at a friend's and I owe you whatever answers you need."

She inhaled deeply. "Were you in rehab for alcohol or molly, Mr. Tobias?"

** ** **

Jessica wasn't sure what to expect but she was early for Taco Tuesday. She'd helped with the Widow's new identity, sure, but she didn't know how the notoriously dangerous assassin would actually react to Steve as Tobias.

"All clear, you can come in," Peter chirped in from the ceiling when she hesitated in the hallway.

"You sure?" she muttered, stepping in regardless and waiting for him to swing in before she closed the door.

"Oh, I'm definitely going to kick your ass soon," Natasha greeted her from a perch on the back of Steve's couch.

"Excuse me?" she flared back, narrowing her opinion of the woman.

"Unless," Natasha smiled slowly, cutting her gaze at Steve. "Tobias is already tapping that."

"I can't apologize for her, she's just working out her identity quirks," Steve said without looking away from tonight's meal already steaming away.

"I told her she should hit on Matt but she doesn't get the appeal of a blind lawyer with a stick," Peter said with a knowing grin.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title and initial lyrics belong to 'Dawn Golden'. There's some 'Panic! at the Disco' and some 'Fall Out Boy' and some more 'Dawn Golden and some Bob Dylan (via Jeff Buckley). I really wish I would have been able to make this work.


End file.
